


There's No Race, There's Only a Runner

by taqarat



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apparently I have a thing for almost-break-up-but-talk-it-through-extensively fics., College Student Adam Parrish, Farmer Ronan Lynch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taqarat/pseuds/taqarat
Summary: “Look Ronan, I think maybe we should…ease up on the gas a bit.”“Are you using a car metaphor right now? Fuck that.”"I just mean that I think this is getting away from us.”“Stop speaking like my fucking dickhead brother. Are you breaking up with me?”Adam forced out a deep breath. ”Yeah. I guess I am."Ronan lifted his chin. “Why?” he asked, defiant.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 16
Kudos: 167





	There's No Race, There's Only a Runner

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of past child abuse but nothing graphic. It's in Adam's POV and he is harder on himself than I would ever be.

Adam placed a hand on the doorknob of Cabeswater Rare Books and paused. Every once in a while he got this feeling. Of possibility, of fortuity, of hope. It was a subtle thrum of anticipation, a buzzing in his fingertips. He used to ignore it, write it off as coincidence or an overactive imagination. But in the last few years he’d learned to pay a bit of attention to it. He certainly wasn’t going to let it determine anything important in his life, but it couldn’t hurt to at least listen to his instincts.

The store was nothing to look at on the surface, a decrepit building on the wrong side of town. He wondered how it stayed in business. There was no foot traffic to speak of and the front windows were too dirty for any sort of display. But maybe there was something more to it. He relaxed his shoulders and let a subtle smile grace his lips as he turned the knob. It quickly turned into a grimace as he pushed the creaky door open. The thrum was actually the bass notes of the most obnoxious music he’d ever heard blaring inside the shop. _Instincts my ass_ , he muttered.

Adam used one hand to cover his good ear, grabbed the “Help wanted” sign out of the window with the other, and let his eyes adjust. The interior of the old building was marginally better than the exterior. It smelled of old books, which Adam loved, and the rundown feel was more comfortable than seedy. Warm sunlight filtered through the dust giving the whole space a sepia hue. If the terrible noise would just stop he might like the place. There was no sign of whoever was working so Adam started peering down each aisle for a clue.

No amount of premonition or intuition or whatever you wanted to call it could have prepared Adam for the person he finally stumbled upon in the last aisle. He was inarguably the most attractive person Adam had ever seen. All chiseled jaw and impossibly long legs and hints of a tattoo crawling around his muscled shoulders. He was clearly surprised at Adam’s arrival but that didn’t hide his appraisal (and obvious appreciation) of Adam’s own physical attributes. Adam hitched the sign in front of his body and was immediately endeared when the man in front of him blushed and fumbled for his phone. He jabbed at the face of it several times before the music finally, thankfully was silenced.

“You’re hiring?” Adam asked in the immediate relief from the noise.

“You want to work here?” The man’s demeanor was gruff but not off-putting. Then again Adam had always had a thing for assholes.

“Maybe.” Adam waited for questions or explanations or anything really. When he didn’t get it he forged on. “I already work at Sam’s garage, down the street, but I was hoping to pick up another part-time gig if I can make it work around my hours there. Are you open evenings or weekends?"

“We’re open by appointment only but I don’t need help with that shit. The work is mostly processing online orders. The hours don’t matter. You could do it in the middle of the night for all I care.”

“What’s the pay?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Is the owner around then? The pay kind of matters to me.”

“I’m the owner. Well partially.” He seemed to realize the ball was in his court and scowled. It seemed to be his default expression. “How about I match what Sam’s paying you?”

That was better than Adam was expecting. The mechanics job was considered skilled work and paid a lot better than minimum wage. He wasn’t going to point that out if he didn’t have to. “Ok. Do you want to know anything about me? I’ve got a resume here….”

“When can you start?”

“Umm… now?”

“Cool. I'm Ronan. Lynch.” He held out his hand to shake.

“Adam Parrish.” If there was a jolt of energy that passed between their hands it was surely just coincidence.

It turned out to be the perfect job for Adam. He could set his own hours, as many as he could spare, and it paid well. Not to mention the added benefit of being able to look at Ronan for long stretches of time. To tease him, to make him laugh and blush and swear.

Adam quickly learned that Ronan lived on a farm outside of town and spent his days tending animals and doing other farm related work. He’d bought the bookstore with a friend as sort of a hobby project when it was threatening to go under. But, at the suggestion of another friend, and to Ronan’s obvious annoyance, they’d recently got their catalog online and now business was booming.

So, they tended to keep similar hours at the shop. Ronan would come in after his day’s work on the farm. Adam would come in after his shift at the garage and after attending his online class. They’d convene in the little office at the back of the store after dark, Ronan most often bringing them both dinner. Adam had protested at first but Ronan had rolled his eyes and said, _it’s just leftovers, Parrish_ and Adam had let it go. Besides it was always delicious.

On the fourth night he brought lasagna. It was out of this world.

“Oh my god, this is so good!” Adam mumbled through his mouthful.

Ronan made a pleased expression that he tried to pass off as vaguely irritated. “It’s my brother’s favorite, too.”

“Your mom made it then?”

“No! Way to be sexist, Parrish.”

“Sorry, so your dad is the cook?”

“No! I fucking made it. I happen to be an adult that lives on my own and takes care of my goddamned self.”

“I'm sorry. You just mentioned the farm and… I guess I don’t know a lot of people our age that, you know, could handle all that. Or that can cook like this.”

Ronan shrugged. “When I bought my place the kitchen was gross and rundown. Once I fixed it up it seemed a shame that no one was using it, so I decided to learn to cook. Can’t survive on ramen and frozen pizza your whole life.”

After dinner they’d get to answering emails and searching through the stacks and boxing up the orders, often late into the night. Ronan laid off the awful EDM music after Adam put his foot down on the first night, but there would usually be some music playing. They’d yell over it to joke with each other if they were on opposite sides of the shop. They’d jostle each other’s shoulders if they passed in an aisle. Most nights they’d end up hanging out together in the cozy office at the back where the computer was.

They barely made it a week before they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Adam was frankly surprised they made it that long.

It was approaching 10:00 that Friday night and they were getting ready to head to their respective homes. Adam was leaning back against the front counter, waiting as Ronan closed up the office. He sauntered out, swinging the keys on his finger as he made his way towards the front. Adam’s eyes caught on the curve of his bicep, the hook of his tattoo, the sharp angle of his jaw. God, he was beautiful.

Ronan’s step faltered momentarily when he glanced up and saw Adam’s expression. Adam bit his lip. He was pleased to be caught but not quite sure if he was ready to do something about it. There was a book under Ronan’s arm that he’d noticed on the couch in the office earlier.

“I didn’t see an order come through for that one.”

“Yeah. It’s for me.” Ronan replied.

“You realize it’s in the original Latin, right?”

“Yeah Parrish. I do have eyes.”

“You can read latin?” Adam tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. He really needed to stop making any assumptions about Ronan.

Ronan clearly heard it and smirked at him. He pondered for a minute then said, “si quis me sinat usque basiare, usque ad milia basiem trecenta.”

Adam recognized the quote. Catullus: _if one should let me go on kissing still, I would kiss them three hundred thousand times_. “Nec numquam uidear satur futurus,” Adam finished. _Nor would I think I should ever have enough_.

Ronan stood, stock still, a pretty blush dusting his cheeks. Adam felt a similar warmth in his ears. In his chest. In other parts. He straightened up from the counter and found himself closer to Ronan than he anticipated. Still, not close enough. Ronan’s eyes dropped to his lips and he swallowed. Adam’s eyes dropped to his throat and without his conscious intent, his hand reached out to cup Ronan’s jaw. Ronan leaned into it, his eyelids dropping, his lips parting. Suddenly an obnoxious trill pierced the intense silence.

Adam backed away quickly and Ronan searched furiously in his pocket for his phone.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ronan spat, face flushed and the familiar scowl back in place.

The voice that came through the phone seemed utterly unperturbed at Ronan’s rude tone. “Ah, Ronan! So pleased you picked up. Are you still at the shop?”

“I am but I'm busy, Dick.”

“This won’t take a minute. I need you to just look up that address for that bookshop in London. It’s in the notebook in the desk, there.”

Ronan tipped his head toward the ceiling. “Seriously, Gansey.”

“Please?”

“God! Fine!”

Ronan gave Adam a quick, apologetic look then stormed off for the office.

Adam made a quick decision. Something was clearly about to happen between the two of them and he didn’t necessarily want it to happen at the shop. He grabbed a piece of scrap paper from the desk and scrawled a note, including the address to his rental. He then slipped out the front door.

His place was only a few minutes away and when he got there he hastily tidied up. (Which took no time. He didn’t own enough things to be messy). And then he freaked out that it was too plain and barren and that Ronan would think he was boring or uptight. And then he freaked out that Ronan wasn’t coming at all.

Ronan still hadn’t shown up an hour later. By that time Adam had convinced himself that he’d made it all up in his head. That he’d not only screwed up a good job but maybe had lost the only friend he had in this town, the only thing that he looked forward to each morning when he woke up. When he finally heard to knock on his door he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or nervous.

Ronan didn’t look at him when Adam stood aside to let him in. He didn’t so much as glance around Adam’s small home. He leaned against the wall in his modest living room with a scowl on his face and his shoulders up by his ears. He looked as tense as a tightly wound coil.

“So, this is my place. It’s not much but….” He kicked himself for drawing attention to the very thing he was trying to hide.

“It’s nice.” Ronan grumbled.

“Did you find the thing your friend needed?”

Ronan nodded, chewing on the leather bracelets he wore on his wrist.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

Ronan licked his lips and finally looked at Adam. “Here I am.” There was no way of knowing if he was happy or miserable about that.

“Look, if you don’t want…..”

“I want,” he interrupted. “Fuck, Adam, just….” he reached out and fisted his hand in the side of Adam’s shirt, tugging almost imperceptibly.

And that was all the encouragement Adam needed. He took the last step towards Ronan, his hands cupping his sharp jaw, his hips pinning him to the wall, his mouth searching and finding everything he’d been hoping for since he’d first laid eyes on him.

Ronan was a study in contradictions and his kisses were no different. They were soft but insistent. Eager but patient. Tender but dirty. He let Adam lead but somehow when Adam finally pulled away it was like he’d lost all sense of time and surroundings. As if Adam had started them off down one safe, familiar path and Ronan had diverted them onto a deep luscious trail that Adam never even knew existed. It was overwhelming.

Adam caught his breath and tried to clear his mind, to get a grip on what was happening, on what he was feeling. The only thing his brain supplied was more, more, more. “How far do you want this to go tonight?” he murmured against Ronan’s ear, a last ditch attempt at pretending he was still in control.

“Fuck, do you you always talk this much?”

“Well yes,” he said, charmed. “I kind of think communication, especially around consent, is important.”

“Jesus. You want me to spell out all the things I want to do?”

“Well that might be excessive but, it would also be hot.”

“Fuck. Just take me to bed already.” And who would argue with that?

Adam woke the next morning to Ronan flicking his cheek.

“Ow, what are you doing?”

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for 5 minutes. I have to go soon.”

Adam realized he’d been lying with his good ear smushed into the mattress. “Sorry,” he mumbled and he must’ve still been half asleep or too blissed out from the sex the night before because he added, “I can’t hear out of my left ear.” It wasn’t something he really ever shared but he tamped down the momentary panic the admission brought. He shifted so his bad ear was now pressed against Ronan’s chest and hummed his appreciation when Ronan started to run his fingers through his hair.

Ronan was silent for a long while. “I didn’t know about your ear,” he finally said. There was something different about Ronan’s tone.

“Hmm.” Adam was determined to keep a grasp on the warm, sated feeling he’d woken up with.

Ronan was brushing his thumb repeatedly along a line on his temple. “Have you always been deaf in that ear?” Adam could identify the tone now. There was a wariness there that Adam had never heard before.

“No.” He kissed Ronan’s nipple to try to distract him from his serious tone. It didn’t work.

“What happened?”

Adam realized with a start that the spot Ronan was rubbing along his hairline was an old scar. That Ronan’s other hand was brushing another long jagged one on the side of his rib cage. He opened his eyes and caught his breath. Ronan went completely still beneath him. “Bike accident. Hit my head,” he lied.

“Is that where the scars came from too? Here and here, and on your hand?” There was a new determination in his tone, too.

Adam pictured himself telling the truth. ‘No those were from other times my dad hit me. I got that one falling on the edge of the coffee table. And that one landing on a broken beer bottle. And that one collapsing against the rusty bumper of his truck.’

“Yeah,” he croaked and got out of bed.

You see Adam Parrish was a liar. He’d lied his whole life, he’d lied to everyone. It simply was part of what being Adam Parrish entailed.  
As a kid he lied to his teachers about the bruises on his skin. To his classmates about why his lunchbox was empty. To himself about not caring that he didn’t get invited to birthday parties or sleepovers.  
In high school he lied to the attendance office about why he had to miss school. To his parents about how much money he made, about where that money was going to go. To himself about not caring that his classmates looked down on him.  
He would justify the lies. It kept him out of the foster system. It sometimes kept him safe from his father’s fists. It mostly kept his pride intact.  
But after he got out of that trailer and that town he just kept on lying. He lied to his roommate about why his parents never came to visit. To his friends about why he couldn’t sit with them at the back of the lecture hall. To himself that he was just doing it to fit in better with his ivy league classmates.  
In reality it just made him lonelier. And it cost him. It cost him friends and dates and study groups, all of which he pushed away as soon as they started asking too many questions. He’d been so afraid of people knowing about the tortured box he’d grown up in, he’d gone and constructed another with his lies.

It was why he was in this small town for the summer. His lies were catching up with him and he was exhausted. When a couple friends asked him to move in with them, to a townhouse leagues out of his price range, he’d lied and said he was going to spend the summer with his parents. In Arizona. Where they’d retired. So when he’d stumbled upon on ad for a full time mechanic in a town 40 minutes away from campus he’d been tempted. When he saw that rents there were 1/4 of what they were in the city his mind was made up.  
A summer away from the city, away from the stories he’d made up, away from the tightrope he walked. It was a chance to save up some money, a chance to get some cheap online credits, a chance to be anonymous.

He’d never wanted to lie to Ronan. He was also still a hell of a long way from being ready to tell the truth.

Luckily Ronan had to get back to his farm early that morning and Adam was left to wallow in his funk alone. But the lies didn’t end there.

Ronan overheard him on the phone a few nights later. One of his college friends called to see how his summer was going with his parents. “Arizona?” Ronan asked after he’d hung up, clearly confused.  
“My parents live there.” Adam lied and picked up a book to shelve at the other side of the store.

A few nights after that they’d settled in to watch a movie at Ronan’s place. When it got violent in an all too familiar way Adam had left the room, palms sweating, heart pounding. “You’re going?” Ronan had asked when Adam came back in with his coat on. “I remembered I have some reading to do before class tomorrow,” Adam mumbled and scurried out the door.

Ronan’s best friend Gansey came to town the next week. He was charming and endearing and clearly loved Ronan to the moon and back. But he asked way too many damn questions. About family. About hometowns. About his preferences for international travel. When he found out about where Adam was going to college he peppered him with the names of a half dozen different guys he’d gone to high school with, one of which he knew. Adam lied about it all.

He didn’t like lying to Gansey. He was earnest and eager to learn about Adam and clearly had no ill intent behind the questions. But he was obtuse about enough of it that Adam could justify the dishonesty. But Ronan. Ronan was there each time and the way he studied Adam afterward pricked at his conscience in a way that kept him up at night.

It was easier when it was just the two of them. They didn’t talk too much about either of their pasts. Their conversations tended to involve arguing about inane subjects. The best movie franchise, whether ketchup counted as a vegetable, which Hemsworth brother was hottest. And they communicated just fine in bed. Better than fine. The sex was incredible, the desire constant. They quickly fell into a pattern of spending most of their nights together.

But it was more than just physical. Or it was that the physicality wasn’t just sexual. It was Ronan convincing him to do fun, stupid, reckless things when Adam was too much inside his own head. It was Adam reading aloud to Ronan when he was battling insomnia, one hand repeatedly brushing over the soft fuzz of his shaved head until he finally dozed off. It was long, fast drives when either of them needed to blow off steam, just enjoying the power of the engine that growled beneath them, the warm wind that swirled around them, the steady presence of each other. It was Adam finding himself smiling and laughing easily, sleeping more, eating better.

It was two months of Adam being the happiest he’d ever been in his life. He should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let him have it for long.

It all came to a head the first week of August. Gansey was visiting again, staying with Ronan. And while it meant having to share his time with Ronan, Adam genuinely liked having him there. He’d guessed that Ronan had schooled Gansey on not asking him too many questions this time and so the conversations had tended to veer toward the academic. They all spent several evenings that stretched late into the night in Ronan’s living room talking about Gansey’s quirky passions and Adam’s studies and the books Ronan was reading.  
That Saturday morning Ronan had gone out to the barn to feed the animals and Adam and Gansey found themselves alone at the kitchen table, talking and drinking coffee. Gansey was going on about old welsh kings in the most earnest, nerdy way and Adam was quietly endeared that this was the man that cool, scary Ronan chose as his closest friend.

At a pause in his monologue, Adam let his fondness loosen his tongue and delve into personal matters. “I can see how close you are now but I have to say, I never would have pegged you two as friends if I’d met you separately.”

Gansey’s rueful smile was contagious. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before. We are rather different from the outside but I think, below the surface, we’re pretty similar.”

Adam could see that. He knew they’d both grown up wealthy and loved by their families, although in different ways. He knew they attended the same high school. He knew they’d been through heavy, important things that Adam was not yet privy to.

“What drew you to Ronan from the start?” Adam asked.

Gansey didn’t ponder long. “His unwavering demand for honesty.” Gansey answered, heartbreakingly earnest.

Adam’s mouth went dry. “Honesty?”

“Yes. Surely he’s told you that he never lies. That he has no tolerance for those who do. It goes back to his relationship with his older brother I think. And his father of course. It was always complicated but it was exacerbated tenfold when their parents died.”

The kitchen suddenly felt too small, too quiet. Adam stood and went to the counter by the coffee pot as if he was going to get another cup. Mostly he wanted to hide his face, to put some space between himself and the things Gansey was revealing.

Gansey, oblivious to Adam’s distress, and apparently encouraged by Adam’s questions, continued. “You know it’s so good to see what you two have built together. I don’t think I ever would’ve guessed what a stable romantic relationship would look like for Ronan. His only other boyfriend, if you could even call him that, was that asshole Kavinsky, and that was all so toxic. Frankly, I was afraid that maybe he had a penchant for abusive men. I was so worried when he told me he’d met someone new. But now that I’ve met you….well, I may be just as smitten as he is.”

Adam could hear the smile in his voice, even if he refused to look at it. It took him way too long to realize he should be saying something.

“Adam, are you okay? Sorry. I’ve just been blathering away.”

Shit. Too late. Adam scrambled for the right thing to say. His brain and his body only supplied him one word. Run. "I have to go,” he croaked out.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah. I just…. tell Ronan good bye for me.”

"Adam… wait. Did I… did I say something?”

“No. I just remembered somewhere I have to be.” What was one more lie.

Adam didn’t plan to avoid Ronan for a week. But, the final for his online class was coming up. Plus he wanted to give Ronan and Gansey time to hang out together. And he suddenly found that he preferred working at the bookstore in the early morning.

Adam had always been best at lying to himself.

As the week went on Adam slowly started to accept that he had to end things. Ronan believed him to be something he was not. He believed that this could be a long term thing. He deserved the truth. And if Adam wasn’t capable of giving that to him, he should at least set him free. He finally forced himself to show up at the bookstore the following Friday after his shift at the garage. Ronan was already there, sorting through a stack of books at the front of the store. He barely looked up when Adam came in.

“Ah, so you’re alive.” Ronan’s voice was clipped and formal. He was clearly pissed, not that Adam was surprised about that.

“Hi, Lynch.”

“I was wondering when you’d show back up here.”

“Sorry. I’ve been busy with that online class.”

Ronan set down the books and finally looked at Adam head on, a challenge in his stance. “So you haven’t been avoiding me?”

Don’t lie. “I’m done with it tomorrow so… I should have more time to help you out here after that.”

“I called. Twice. And stopped by your place.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Adam silently pleaded for him to stop the interrogation. He found he didn’t want to end it today. He knew he should. He knew it had to be soon. He just found himself hoping for a few more days of happiness with Ronan before he pulled the plug.

Ronan stared at him, hard, as if he was reading his mind. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.”

Apparently it had to be tonight. “Look Ronan, I think maybe we should…ease up on the gas a bit.”

“Are you using a fucking car metaphor right now? Fuck that.”

"I just mean that I think this is getting away from us.”

“Stop speaking like my fucking dickhead brother. Are you breaking up with me?”

Adam forced out a deep breath. ”Yeah. I guess I am."

Ronan lifted his chin. “Why?” he asked, defiant.

“I don’t know Ronan… I just…think this isn’t going the way I expected.”

“Was it something Gansey said?”

“What? He told you about that?” Adam stalled.

“Yeah. What did he say to you that freaked you out so bad?”

That was not the direction he thought this conversation would go. “It’s nothing, Lynch.”

“Fuck that. It’s not nothing, you’re breaking up with me!”

“If you want to know what he said, ask him.”

“I did. He told me every word. I'm asking you what it was he said that freaked you out.” He paused but when Adam didn’t volunteer the information he continued. “Was it that my parents were dead? Or that I’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“No.”

“So, it’s the fact that I'm …. how did he put it? Smitten?” he said with a nasty sneer.

“Just leave Gansey out of this.”

“Oh, I’d love to but he hasn’t slept in a week. He’s beating himself up over this. So if he really did fuck this up for me, like he believes he did, we might as well know what it was."

“It’s not that. Or not just that. I just never meant for this to get serious. This was never going to be a long term thing.”

Ronan winced and looked down at his shoes. “Coward.”

Adam tucked his chin in, surprised and offended. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me.”

“You have no right to call me that. You don’t know me. You have no idea what all this means to me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Because you don’t tell me anything. You’re a fucking impenetrable fortress, refusing to let anyone in. Do you think I'm not terrified too? Do you think I don’t know how much this could fucking hurt? I’ve lost people before, Parrish. I know this could fucking ruin me, but I'm still brave enough to try.”

“That isn’t bravery, it’s stupidity. You’ve just admitted I'm a closed off asshole that you barely know. Do you really think it’s smart to dive into something serious with someone like me?”

All the combativeness left his tone. “I think it might be the smartest thing I ever do. I think what we have here has the potential to be something pretty great. And I'm also smart enough to know that you can see that too, even if you’re afraid to admit it.”

Adam suddenly missed angry, defensive Ronan. He had no idea how to handle a vulnerable Ronan.“I never made any promises to you."

“No. You never did. You were always pretty careful that way, weren’t you? Careful what you promised, careful what you shared, careful with how far you’d let me in.”

Apparently he handled it by getting angry and defensive himself. “Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Fuck that, I know you,” Ronan said softly.

“You really don’t."

“You may not have told me much, but I pay attention, Parrish. I know a lot. I know how to make you laugh. I know how to get you out of your head when you’re spiraling. I know when you’re lying and when you’re scared and when you’re so fucking sad but trying desperately to hide it. I know…I know…” His voice cracked heartbreakingly but he still forced out, “I know I make you happy.” His eyes were wet and his chin was shaking but he didn’t look away from Adam, as if he was daring him to say he was wrong about any of it. He wasn’t.

“Ronan…” he pleaded.

“I know you’re hiding something. I know that whatever it is, it’s the reason you’ve been holding me at arms length. It’s the reason you’re breaking up with me now.”

God Adam hated this. He hated hurting Ronan. He hated feeling known. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to run. He wanted to never face up to any of this. “I can’t do this right now, Ronan. I’m tired and you’re upset. Let’s sleep on it and maybe it will all make sense in the morning.”

“Fuck that. You’ve already been avoiding me for a week.”

“So what’s one more day?”

“Because I know you. If you walk out that door you’re going to decide that it’s easier to retreat into that fortress of yours. You’ll never tell me what this is really about.”

Adam hated that Ronan was right about all of it. He wasn’t going to talk his way out of this. “Why are you fucking fighting me on this? It’s over and nothing you say is going to change that.” Adam turned for the door.

Before Adam knew what was happening, Ronan rushed past him to get to the door first. He locked it, pulled out the key and threw it so deep into the store, Adam didn’t even hear it land.

“What the fuck? You can’t do that!”

Ronan crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. “Looks like I just did.”

“You can’t force me to date you!”

“I'm not forcing you to date me. I'm forcing you to tell me why you don’t want to anymore.”

“This isn’t funny. I have a test tomorrow, Ronan. I need to get home and study.”

“You’ve got a test right now, Parrish. It’s an easy one. A single question.”

“Let me out the goddamn door, Lynch.”

“Why are you pushing me away?”

“This isn’t how relationships work. You can’t keep me hostage here.”

“Answer the question.”

Adam was done being civil. Maybe if he hurt Ronan enough he’d give up and let him go. “Fine,” he gritted out. “You’re a high school drop out, that’s why. I want to be with someone who’s fucking going somewhere with their life.”

Ronan just glared at him in silence. Adam forced himself not to feel bad. Just as he started to lose that battle, Ronan spoke again. “Liar,” he gritted out.

“You have no right to stand there and call me names.” It was fury that made his voice crack. His throat ache. His eyes burn.

“I have every right. Because this is my life too. My shot at happiness. And if it’s being torn away from me without my consent I think I at least deserve to know the reason.”

All the fight left Adam. He slumped against the counter and closed his eyes. “God, Ronan. I can’t. Please.” The tears fell.

Ronan looked sad for the first time that night. He took a step closer. “Adam. Jesus. I’m sorry. Just…” He took a long shaky breath. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me that all you need is more time, that I just need to be patient, then I will be. If you say you need a week or a month or fucking 10 years before you can tell me, then I'll wait for you. I'll wait as long as it takes.”

Adam was so tired. He couldn’t run from this. He didn’t want to lie. Maybe the truth was the best way out of this. And what did it matter anyway? Once Ronan heard it he wouldn’t want anything to do with Adam anyway. “Five minutes,” he croaked.

”What?”

“Just…. I need five minutes to to… figure out how to say this.”

Ronan looked as surprised as he’d ever seen him. “Shit. Okay.”

They ended up sitting shoulder to shoulder against the counter, close but not quite touching. Adam wrapped his arms tight around his knees. He took a long, bracing breath and started.  
“I didn’t lose part of my hearing in a bike accident. My parents aren’t retired in Arizona. I didn’t grow up in a happy middle class suburb. I’ve lied to you this whole time.”

“Okay.” Ronan’s tone was remarkably calm.

“Okay? That’s not okay! You value truth above all else and I’ve fucking been lying about everything.”

“But why were you lying?”

Adam was incredulous. “You want to know _why_?”

“I can tell when you’re lying, Parrish. Always have. You’re not as good at it as you think you are. I figured there was a good reason for it.”

“I am good at it though. I’ve been lying my whole life. No one else has ever called me on it. Not once.”

Ronan shrugged. “So tell me the truth.”

Adam shook his head but soldiered on. “My parents were…. not good.” Even that half truth felt gross in his mouth. “They were fucking terrible. My dad hit me. A lot. My mom blamed me for it. Sometimes it got really bad. When I was 17 he knocked me down the steps and I hit my head and…. my ear. I was always scared. Always tired and hungry. We were fucking dirt poor and… pitied. And that was the worst of it. I hated, _hated_ feeling pitied. So when I got out of there, I promised myself I’d never go back and I’d never let myself be pitied again. So I lied. I’ve lied to every single person I’ve met since then. None of my friends know any of this. I’ve painted this picture of a happy, supportive childhood and now I'm stuck in it. I can’t let myself get close to anyone or they’ll discover all my lies. Until now….”

“And now?” Ronan’s head was turned away. His voice gruff.

“I don’t want to be a liar anymore. I don’t want to be a coward.” Adam waited until Ronan turned his head to look at him. “You’ve always looked at me as if I'm…. better than I am. I want to be the person that you’ve always seen.”

“Do you want to be with me?” Ronan asked.

“Yeah. I really do.”

“Okay.” Ronan said it as if it really was as simple as that. And maybe it was. Ronan took his hand and pulled it to his lips, kissed it and cradled it against his cheek.

“So what happens now?” Adam asked, a little delirious.

“Well, to start, you could stop trying to break up with me.”

Adam huffed out half a laugh that was admittedly a little wet. “Okay.”

“Then I should call Gansey. He really is a mess over this.”

Adam smiled and nodded.

“Then we should get out of here.”

“First we have to find the key. I can’t believe you locked us in here.”

Ronan carefully placed the key on Adam’s knee. “I can’t believe you fell for that, Parrish. Oldest trick in the book.”

“You are such an asshole.” Adam said, shocked, but he couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of his voice.

Ronan shrugged again. “I regret nothing. My dad taught me to fight for things that are important. My brothers taught me to fight dirty. Plus it worked.”

Adam was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization of what had just happened. He’d laid out the ugliest, most shameful parts of himself and Ronan was still there. Ronan still wanted him. And Adam wanted him back. So much. Forever.

“Thank you,” he croaked out. “For fighting for me.”

Ronan looked at him as if he could hear everything Adam was trying to say with those sad, inadequate words. After a long moment he pulled Adam to him so his nose was buried in his neck. “Anytime, Parrish,” he rasped.

And Adam let himself hear everything Ronan was trying to say, too.


End file.
